


And to dust you shall return

by zipadeea



Series: Ash Wednesday [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, an AU of my AU, but remember you are dust had so many outtakes, i just wanted to share, spiderson, you don't understand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-10-26 04:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20736302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zipadeea/pseuds/zipadeea
Summary: “Bring her back.”“I cannot. You know this, Steven. A soul for a soul--,”“You stole my life.” Steve interrupts heatedly, “Eighty years ago, on that plane, you stole it away. I could’ve lived a long and good life. A happy life. And because of you I didn’t.“Give them to her. Give her the years that I lost, the life I could’ve had.”***Outtakes, deleted scenes, and alternate endings to my story 'Remember you are dust'





	1. Steve on Vormir

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaha betcha thought I was done with this, didn't you? I know I mentioned it in the A/N of one of the chapters, but for a very long time, Peter was going to snap in 'Remember you are dust', not *SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ MY STORY GO READ IT FIRST* Steve. There are just so many what if and deleted scenes that didn't work out but I still like sitting on my laptop, and I kinda wanted to share them, so here they are. 
> 
> I am considering writing the Tony and Steve time travel 1943 scene still, so depending on the response to this maybe it will happen ;) Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not too worried about editing with these, i'm literally just gonna copy and paste what i had from like weeks/months ago, so sorry if there are errors.

“Bring her back.” 

“I cannot. You know this, Steven. A soul for a soul--,” 

“You stole my life.” Steve interrupts heatedly, “Eighty years ago, on that plane, you stole it away. I could’ve lived a long and good life. A happy life. And because of you I didn’t. 

“Give them to her. Give her the years that I lost, the life I could’ve had.” 

“Steven--,” 

“A soul for a soul,” Steve says firmly, handing back the small orange stone. “A life for a life. You say I must lose something I love? I lost a life I would have loved more than anything in the world. Give it to her. The life that didn’t happen.” 

Red Skull looks away, his disfigured face contemplative. 

“You owe me, Schmidt,” Steve growls. 

“If you do this,” Schmidt says finally, “Your original plan will not work. If you go back to Margaret and stay, Natasha will die again. It matters not if it is a different timeline.” 

“I know.” Steve takes a shaking breath. “I won’t stay there. Just bring her back.” Steve’s voice breaks on her name. “Bring Natasha back.” 

000 

000 

000 

“Alright, bringing him back in five...four...three...two--,” 

The best part about this end of time travel, Tony can’t help but think, is the lack of wait time. It’s much easier being here, counting down the imminent arrival, because for better or for worse, it will all be over in seconds. There’s hardly even time to be anxious, to worry for Steve’s well-being in the face of such a difficult and arguably the most import task of their whole....time heist. 

Tony still can’t believe they never thought up a better name. 

Before he can even begin ruminating on a snappier title for their temporal voyage (actually, that’s not bad...) the platform is lighting up, the buttons are glowing green and-- 

Steve comes back to the future. 

With a living, breathing Natasha Romanoff cradled in his arms. 

000 

“What the fuck did you do?” Clint growls, shoving Steve up against the wall in the hallway outside Nat’s hospital room, his hand clenched in the front of Steve’s shirt. “What did you do, Steve? What the hell did you give up?” 

“I gave back the stone--,” 

“It costs more than that, Steve! I was there, I know,_ I know_! A soul for a soul,” Clint rants, eyes wild, “You must give up that which you love. What did you give, Steve? Who did you give? If you’re about to drop dead on the floor, this isn’t going to be worth it to her, she’ll never fucking forgive herself if--,” 

“I already lost it,” Steve whispers, voice suddenly and completely wrecked. Tony unconsciously takes a step toward him. “Seventy years. I lost seventy years of a life I would have loved. I just reminded Johann Schmidt what he already took away from me.” 

Oh. _Oh. _

Clint finally drops Cap’s collar, uses a gentle hand to brush the wrinkles he’d made there before pulling away. 

A life he would have loved.... 

“You were going to stay,” Tony suddenly says, voice barely more than a whisper. “You were going to go back to Peggy Carter and stay with her. I wondered, when I saw how many Pym particles you took from Hank’s lab, I thought...” Tony trails off. Clint’s mouth is dropped open in shock. 

Steve is biting his lip, chin tilted up toward the ceiling. 

It’s all the confirmation Tony needs before stepping forward and pulling Steve into a hug. 

Tony’s seen pictures of Steve Rogers before the serum, he’s read the reports, hell, he’s seen the exhibit at the Smithsonian. He knows how small Steve used to be. But this, hugging him, holding Steve as he crouches down and weeps into Tony’s shoulder is the first time he really understands. 

Because Steve cries like a child. 

Not in the fact that he’s loud or snotty. No, Steve Rogers curls up within himself, tucks his chin and slouches his shoulders as the tears drip down his face. He cries like he’s aching to be held, like he’s a foot shorter and a hundred pounds lighter, and he needs arms wrapped around him to anchor him from blowing away in the wind. 

Peter does the same thing. 

“Don’t tell Nat,” Steve eventually gasps around his near silent sobs. “Don’t tell her what I did, don’t--it’s not bad, it might not have even worked, I don’t know, I don’t know—she's, we--,” 

“You’re allowed to be sad, Steve,” Tony whispers into his ear, hand rubbing comfortingly up and down his back. “You’re allowed to grieve. That’s what we do when we lose the things we love.” 

Tony watches over Steve shoulder as Clint quietly steals his way back into Nat’s room, shutting the door behind him. For a while, it’s just him and Steve in the half-lit hallway, the sounds of Steve’s sniffling echoing up and down the floor tiles. 

It’s often, almost always really, too easy for Tony to forget how young Steve Rogers is. The man was just three years older than Peter when he sacrificed himself to a cold and watery grave. Even now, he’s still years younger than Tony himself was when he was kidnapped in Afghanistan. Steve Rogers has spent his entire life being forced to grow up too quickly. He’s never had a break, just jumped from one tragedy, one catastrophe to the next ever since the day he was born. 

And all he’s ever wanted is a happy life. 

Eventually, finally, Steve’s breaths even out. He pulls back slowly, straightens up, and rubs a tired hand down his swollen and blotchy face before looking Tony in the eye. 

“I’m sorry, Steve.” Steve just shakes his head. 

“The world has changed, and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes, the best that we can do, is to start over." Steve looks at Nat’s door. “I don’t regret what I did. I’m sad right now but I—I don’t think there could be a world where I regret this. Where I would make a different decision. Peggy lived a good life, a happy and important one, she didn’t need me to do that. And Nat--,” Steve swallows thickly. “She’s going to be so fucking pissed with me. But she’s alive.” 

“She’s alive. We all are.” Tony says, wonder in his own voice at the sudden realization. “How the fuck did we pull this off?” 

Steve just shakes his head. “I have no idea.” 

000


	2. Peter snaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #Petersnaps but he lives because.......just wait and see

“I am inevitable,” Thanos proclaims, shoulders falling in relief as he stands and faces Tony. He raises his gauntleted hand, armed and ready to end the universe once and for all. 

Or, so he thinks. 

“You sure about that?” Peter wants more than anything to sound nonchalant, but his body is buzzing, hairs standing on end, and his words comes out in a strangled gasp. His spidey sense is a fucking airhorn going off behind his head because danger oh my god Peter danger DANGER you basically have a thousand nuclear bombs strapped to your HAND and--- 

Thanos turns to face him, eyes wide. 

“In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun,” _Please work, please work, please work, I don’t __wanna _ _ die, please work, c’mon please _ _ please__, give me a chance, I don’t __wanna__ die-- _

_ But I will if I have to. _

“You find the fun,” a silver blur comes pummeling toward Peter, whooshing passed Thanos’ left ear. Peter leaps, reaching his hand up to catch-- 

Mjolnir 

“And, snap!” 

Peter snaps. 

000 

000 

000 

000 

“Peter--Pete, don’t let go of the hammer,” Tony begs, “Don’t you dare—Steve!” Tony barks out, and immediately two large hands cover Peter’s waning grip on Mjolnir, forcing him to hold on. 

Steve is strong, it hurts, it hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the agony of his right hand. 

Peter figured the gauntlet would feel like lightning, like electricity shooting up his arm. That’s what it looks like. That’s what it should be. 

Instead, the infinity gauntlet cuts into his body like an infected sore. Peter jerks unconsciously as his fever skyrockets. The pus of the gauntlet, of the wound, is steadily invading his body, moving sludge-like through his cracked and blackened fingers and up the husk of his right arm to finally fry his brain. 

To stop his heart. 

It is heat and cold and knives and fire all at once and multiplying. It feels like acid is slinking through his arm, individually detaching each muscle, slowly dissolving his sinews to sludge. The thought of existing this way for even ten more seconds is unfathomable. 

“No,” Peter hears himself vaguely, like he’s listening to a radio. “No, no, hurts, Dad, it hurts, make it stop, Dad, please, _please_\--,” Peter’s back arches with the plea, his body bucking, rolling in the waves of pain. Tony’s armored hands on his head tighten, holding it firmly in place. 

“Carol, get his--,” Tony’s voice is barely more than a rasp. Steel limbs lock Peter’s legs down fast. 

“Stark.” 

“There has to be another--,” 

“Stark.” 

Tony’s breath hitches. Peter opens his eyes—when had he closed them? Tony’s face is upside down above him, screwed up in agony. 

“God damn you, Strange,” Tony whispers. He tries to smile when he notices Peter staring and takes the time to brush more of Peter’s hair out of his face before looking away again. 

“Peter.” Pepper says it quietly, turning his head gently to face her, suddenly crouched as she is next to Steve and the hammer Steve refuses to allow Peter to relinquish. “Hi, baby. Shhhh, it’s alright, it’s all going to be fine, sweetheart.” She’s taken off her own gauntlets already. The thumbs on Peter’s cheeks, brushing away the tears, are warm. 

“Tell me about the Mets game, Peter,” Pepper commands, a soft smile on her face, her pretty hair falling in artful waves around her head. “Morgan wouldn’t stop talking about it today. She’s very excited.” 

Peter swallows once, then twice, then closes his eyes and tries to turn his head to the hurried whispers on his right. 

“Peter,” Pepper reprimands, tilting his head back to face her. Peter opens his eyes. 

“Cheap seats,” Peter rasps. “Bleachers, so high we all get no—no--,” He coughs. “Nosebleeds. Don’t care what y-you think, I’m buying Morgie a h-hotdog.” Steve chuckles at that. “Cold beer and f-fight over extra extra large f-free shirts and--,” Peter stops again to cough. Phlegm catches itself on the corner of his lips; Steve and Pepper’s eyes widen at the sight. “--hurts. Make it stop, please, please, make it--,” 

“Just a little longer, baby. Just a little bit more, then you can rest.” Pepper’s mouth shakes when she finishes speaking. She looks up, beyond Peter, and bites her lip at what she finds. Pepper leaves one hand on Peter’s cheek and rests the other on his shoulder, her thumb rubbing up and down his collarbone. 

Another hand reaches from behind Peter and gently forces his head all the way to the side—all he can see is Pepper and half of the star on Steve’s chest. The hand is firm, unforgiving, but familiar and-- 

“Tony--,” Peter whines. 

Tony looks down at Peter. Tears make his eyes bright. 

“Do it, Thor.” 

_ Swish. _

_ Crunch. _

_ Thud. _

The world is black before Peter can hear the horrified screams escape his choked throat. 

000 

000 

000 

When Peter wakes, the world is dark. The world is heavy. 

He tilts his head and hears the crinkling of papery sheets, the click of tubes and wires jumbling together, and a soft, steady beeping. 

His left hand is held lightly by another hand with too many callouses to count. 

Peter squeezes the hand as tight as he can around the IVs and opens his eyes a bit more. 

Tony goes from slumped in a chair at Peter’s bedside with a surely painful crick in his neck to sitting up straight, awake and alert, in less than one second. 

Then, his eyes meet Peter’s and he bursts into tears. 

Burst is really the best word Peter can think to describe the change. Tony goes from sleepy silence to great, heaving sobs so quickly Peter’s heart nearly skips a beat. Tony’s crying so hard he is beyond words, his breath coming unevenly in stuttering gasps. He takes Peter’s hand in both of his own and bows his head, his forehead eventually resting on their clasped hands as he cries, his face red and blotchy and raw. 

Peter wonders idly, tears already running down his own cheeks, when the last time Tony broke down like this actually was. Because Tony Stark is a man of walls, of layer after layer of wit and sarcasm and intelligence and snark, constantly fighting nearly everyone and everything in his life that could break his heart again. 

Few people truly know Tony Stark. Fewer still have seen the man at the end of his rope, when the walls finally tumble down down down and there aren’t jokes, aren’t words even, to make the situation better. There’s just Tony and Peter, their hands gripped together, Tony’s aching, coughing sobs, his tears and snot staining Peter’s bed sheets. 

It’s better though, Peter can’t help but think, to break all at once. It’s easier to heal a bone that’s been snapped in half than one shattered into a million little pieces. 

Peter tries to bring his right hand over to brush Tony’s hair, to offer what little comfort he can, when he finally notices his own loss. 

His right arm now ends above his elbow. There are neat, white bandages covering up the stump where his limb has been removed. 

Peter hears the odd blip of his heart monitor, notices Tony beginning to shake himself out of his stupor before he takes a deep breath and simply looks away. Tomorrow, Tony will hug Peter and hold him close while he cries about his arm. Tony will promise to build him a new one, a better one, will probably already have schematics to show Peter for his ideas. Tony will bring May and Happy and Pepper and Morgan and they will hug and cry and be together and finally be happy, this weird little perfect family he’s dreamed for himself. Tony will whisper in his ear that he’s proud of Peter, he loves Peter, he’ll echo Pepper and tell Peter that he’s the best thing that ever happened to them. 

Tomorrow, Tony will build his walls again. For Peter’s sake, he will be indomitable. 

Tonight, Peter lets him break. 

He drags their joined hands up to his own chest, lets one of Tony’s rest over his heart while his remaining hand covers Tony’s. 

_ I’m still here, _he hopes Tony hears with the pounding of each beat._ I’m alive. I didn’t leave. _

_ I wouldn’t leave you. _

He grips Tony’s hand as tightly as he can before closing his eyes, forcing himself to take deep, exaggerated breaths. 

Tony does the same. 

His sobs die down into hiccups that even out into stuttering, slow breaths as the minutes crawl by in the dark room. Eventually, a calloused thumb drags gently across both of Peter’s cheeks, under his closed eyes, to wipe away the tear tracks. 

There’s a kiss to the crown of his head and the lips linger, only to be replaced by the stubble of an unshaven cheek. The face pulls away, and a hand begins combing through the tangled curls on the side of his head. 

Peter falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the biggest reason I didn't like this outcome was because I was taking the hammer worthiness thing away from Cap. Like, do I think Peter Parker is worthy to wield Mjolnir? Obviously. But it's a lot with two big reveals like that in the same battle. And without some kind of change or extra power, I thought Peter would die and I really didn't want him to die.
> 
> And, yeah, Peter made a Mary Poppins reference. Is it out of place? yes. Do I care? no. Julie Andrews is always the right answer.


	3. After the funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was just starting this story, like writing the first two chapter months ago right after seeing endgame, I thought I was gonna have Tony die like the movie. That didn't last very long, but I do have an ending scene written out for it. So this takes place the night after Tony's funeral.

000 

Peter is at the end of the dock, watching the sunset and lost in thought when Steve approaches. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

Peter shrugs his shoulders and wipes his eyes quickly as Steve settles down next to him, feet dangling off the end. 

Peter expects him to start asking questions, tell him to share what he’s feeling, even go on tangent about how it’s not Peter’s fault, how Tony’s a hero and the best of them and that if he had to go, if he truly had to leave, that’s the way he would’ve chosen. 

But Steve is silent. He just sits and watches the sunset with Peter, his own eyes filling with tears. 

“We used to sit here a lot, Tony and me, after the—after I came to live here. I wasn’t dealing well, and I wasn’t really talking about it or anything, you know? But he never—he didn’t push. He’d just sit out here with me. Sometimes we’d fish. Sometimes we skipped stones. A lot of times he’d just talk at me, tell me about his day, the projects he was working on, stuff like that. It—it helped. It helped me a lot. 

Peter sniffs. “People always say he was kind of robotic, didn’t feel things all the way, but that’s not true. He is—was really empathetic, you know? He felt things deep, put the whole world on his shoulders, and it hurt him. It hurt him a lot, sometimes. I didn’t always agree with him, but he understood me, understood how I was feeling. He was a really good person.” 

Steve rubs a tired hand over his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. “Yeah. He really was.” 

The sit in silence for a while. The sun has almost set behind the tree line, the sky a brilliant orange when Peter speaks again. 

“I should have stayed in school. I hate that I disappointed him. I hate that we fought. I should have--,” 

“Peter, don’t do that,” Steve says softly, “Please don’t. Tony loved you, he was proud of every single thing about you. He wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like this, kiddo. I know he wouldn’t.” 

Peter doesn’t respond. Steve puts an arm around his shoulders. 

The stars are just beginning to make their appearance in the black velvet sky when Peter whispers softly: 

“It didn’t have to be him.” Peter feels but doesn’t see Steve’s head turn to face him. “Dr. Strange, back on Titan before the snap, he told us he’d seen fourteen million possible outcomes for the future. We won in two of them. And I—Steve, I was gonna do it, Tony knew I was going for the gauntlet and to stop me, he went first. He didn’t have to die Steve, he didn’t, it should’ve--God, it should’ve been me. Morgan’s just a little baby, she’ll barely remember him, and he’ll never see, he won’t get to watch--,” 

“That’s not true.” The voice is quiet, but it carries easily through the dark night. Peter flinches, and Steve lets him go so they can both turn around. 

“That’s not true,” Dr. Strange repeats, sitting cross-legged behind them on the dock. “Tony always had to die for this to work.” 

“But you said there was another--,” 

“In the one other future where we won, you vanished in the snap, Peter.” 

A stone settles itself in Peter’s stomach. “What?” 

“Thanos gathering the infinity stones and vanishing half the life of the universe was inevitable. The biggest variable a successful outcome hinged on was always you.” 

“But you just said I vanished--,” 

Dr. Strange sighs. “Haven’t you wondered why I gave Thanos the time stone?” 

An old anger rises up in Peter, remembering the way the man before him had gifted the time stone, had doomed the universe without seemingly a second thought. 

Peter never could have imagined just how long the game they were playing could go. 

“In most, not all, but most of the futures where we lost, you died before the snap could happen, Peter. And to lose you for good would have meant immediate failure. So, I gave Thanos the stone before that ever had the chance to happen.” 

“But _why? _” 

“Because Stark did it for you, kid. In the outcome where you vanished, Tony Stark mastered time travel because he wanted to bring you back. And here--,” 

“He did it because I asked,” Peter whispers, the doctor’s explanation now making a sick amount of sense. Here Tony Stark mastered time travel because Peter asked him to. He begged Tony to try, to keep his promise and bring everyone else back. 

Peter never imagined he’d have to lose Tony in the process. 

Dr. Strange nods. Steve puts his arm back around Peter’s shoulders; he’d been so quiet Peter nearly forgot he was there. 

“I wasn’t nodding at you, kid. I was nodding at him. Either way, this was how it had to end.” 

This was the endgame. Peter Parker was the catalyst. And Tony Stark was the hero of the tale, the chosen one who had to die for everyone else to live. 

Dr. Strange makes to stand, and Peter finally asks, “Was it ever me?” The man tilts his head questioningly, eyebrows scrunched. 

“In the outcomes where we lost, was I ever the one to snap the gauntlet?” 

Dr. Strange smiles grimly. “Tony always managed to stop you. Twelve thousand five hundred and three outcomes where you had the gauntlet, and Tony kept you from snapping in every single one. That’s why we lost.” 

With that, Dr. Strange turns around and walks off the dock, back toward the bright lights of the house and the gathering still going on inside. 

“Tony was such an idiot,” Peter croaks, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes and he laid back on the dock. Peter hears the wood creak as Steve lays down next to him. 

“Sometimes,” Steve agrees in a whisper. “Not for loving you, though, Pete. Tony would probably say loving you was one of the smartest things he ever did.” 

Peter takes his hands away from his eyes to look up at the stars. He and Tony used to do this, too, once the sun had set and the night grew dark. They’d lay back and look at the stars, listen to the water lapping softly on the dock. 

“In Afghanistan, I was held captive with a man named Ho Yinsen,” Tony had told him once as the crickets chirped around them. “He was a doctor. Saved my life. He used an electromagnet and a car battery to keep the shrapnel away from my heart, did fucking open heart surgery on me in a dirty cave in the mountains and kept me from getting an infection on top of it all. He was a smart guy. 

“He talked about his family a lot, how he was going to see them soon. Talked about the stars too, how much he missed them, how he missed laying with his daughters in the field behind their house to look at the constellations. 

“Yinsen saw his family again, but he never got to see the stars. Now I watch them for him.” 

Tony had taken a shuddering breath, before letting them fall into another bout of quiet. 

“That’s--,” Peter started, voice cracking with disuse, “That’s Orion, right?” he’d asked, pointing up at the familiar belt. It was the first time he’d spoken all day. 

“Yeah, kid,” Tony had said with a smile, patting the top of Peter’s hand with his own. “Yeah, it is.” 

000 


	4. Pepper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> where did Peter and Pepper go for that day out in Chapter 2? solve the mystery below....along with another alternate snappening where Peter dies :0

2020 

000 

“Grab a jacket, we’re going out,” Pepper says, strolling into Peter’s room without bothering to knock on the door. 

Peter looks up slowly from the pad on his lap, face grim. “Is this my punishment?” 

Pepper just raises her eyebrows. Peter’s frown deepens. “Just grab a jacket. We’ve got a long trip ahead of us.” 

Peter does. 

000 

Four hours later, Pepper leads the way down the steps of the private jet. She struggles to hide her smirk when she catches Peter’s wide eyes on the palm trees and mountains in the distance. 

“Pepper, where are we?” Peter whispers as she ushers them to the waiting car. 

“Palm Springs,” Pepper answers idly, turning airplane mode off her phone to make sure she hasn’t received any horrible SOS messages from Tony. 

Tony’s a good dad. He can certainly handle Morgan alone for one day. 

Probably. 

“And uh—why are we here, exactly? We headed to a spa day or something?” 

Pepper smirks again. 

“No, honey. We’re going hiking.” 

000 

The drive is less than an hour long. Peter spends the whole time with his eyes glued to the window, staring at the mountains and desert, the wide and empty landscape surrounding them. 

“It’s so....it’s all so big. I feel like we landed on the moon,” Peter says, and Pepper laughs. 

“Just you wait and see.” 

000 

Finally, the desert joyride comes to an end. Pepper follows the serpentine road in the middle of nowhere up to a lonely ranger station. 

“Joshua Tree?” Peter reads, obviously confused. “Is this—are we—I'm still very confused, Pepper.” 

Pepper chooses not to respond. Instead, she pays the ranger in the booth their admission fee, accepts the map she offers, and continues their drive into the national park. 

“Whoa,” Peter breathes, eyes still glued to the window, “Whoa, they’re like little aliens,” he points, indicating the odd cactus-like trees, spreading for miles in the sloping, rocky landscape before them, “It’s like something straight out of Star Wars.” 

Pepper rolls her eyes. “Yes, well, these trees have been around much longer than George Lucas. He can’t take all the credit.” She scopes out the mounds and hills before them as she drives, searching for the perfect position. 

It takes a few more minutes to find exactly what she’s looking for, and when she does, Pepper immediately pulls the car over and parks right on the side of the road. 

“I’ve got boots for you in the trunk,” Pepper says, getting out of the car and lacing up her own shoes. 

“Pepper, what is this?” Peter asks again, running to catch up as she walks toward the rocky crag before them. “What are we doing? Have you come out here to murder me and stash the body? Are you really that mad about Evan--?” 

Pepper stops and turns around, and sighs down at Peter as he tries and fails to hop forward on his left leg while tying his right shoe. He’s nearly to her feet when he finally stops hopping. 

“I told you, we’re going hiking. We’re going up to the top of that hill. No webs!” Pepper says quickly, the glint in Peter’s eyes quickly fading. “Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

000 

The sun is high in the sky by the time the two of them make it to the top. Pepper is winded and sweaty, despite the cool air; Peter looks like he’s just gone for a walk around block. Pepper works very hard not to feel resentful. Despite his lack of exertion, Pepper still hands Peter a water bottle and a couple granola bars she’s kept stowed in her pack. Peter accepts them with a quiet thanks, before looking out at the world before them. 

“It’s pretty,” he says softly. “Makes you feel really tiny.” 

“It’s also an excellent place to relieve stress,” Pepper responds, before promptly standing up and screaming at the top of her lungs. 

“PEPPER! PEPPER WHAT THE FUCK! Jesus!” Peter yelps, the echoes of her screams still bouncing around them. He’s jumped to his feet, one hand against his ear, the other hand stretched to her as though still deciding if he wants to grab her close or push her away. 

The sight of Peter, his brown eyes wide, his body frozen in a passing impression of the Heisman pose with his mouth open in shock leave Pepper laughing hysterically, and Peter soon joins in, their giggles and guffaws mixing and bouncing and echoing through the rocks and trees below. 

“Pepper,” Peter finally gasps, falling gracelessly to the rocks, “What was that?” 

“That is how I deal with stress,” Pepper says with a shrug, plopping herself down beside him. “I started doing it when Tony got kidnapped in Afghanistan. Work was hell. The person I’d chosen to revolve my life around and had been asinine enough to fall in love with was missing, most likely dead. I wasn’t eating, I was barely sleeping, working straight through for days on end, and one day I just said fuck it all. I hopped in my car, took the company credit card and started driving. Ended up here.” 

She can feel Peter’s gaze on her face, but can’t bring herself to look at him. Instead, she stares at the brown and gray and green of the odd yet beautiful world around them. So alien, yet so comforting all at once. 

“I pulled over, climbed a rock, and just started screaming. Screamed at Tony for being an idiot. At Obie for sending him there. At James for not being able to find him. Then, I just screamed. Every bad thought, all the awful feelings and dead dreams and hate in my heart, I screamed it out for the rocks and the trees and lizards to hear. It helped. I thought maybe it could help you, too.” 

Peter looks away, and Pepper sighs. “It’s also fine if it doesn’t help, Peter, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I know I look like a maniac right now--,” 

“Sometimes, I hate Peter Quill so much it hurts.” 

Pepper shuts up. 

“I don’t know how much you know about what went down on Titan, but we almost stopped him. We almost had the gauntlet. That Mantis girl was able to put Thanos to sleep and we were—we were so close.” Peter’s voice breaks. 

“Then Quill starts taunting Thanos, screaming at him about someone named Gamora, and it was just—it was over. Thanos escaped, and went and got Vision. 

“Some days, I hate Dr. Strange even more than Quill. He was so flippant and arrogant and mean the whole time, acted like he knew exactly how to save the day. And then, when push came to shove, he just handed the Time Stone to Thanos. Pepper, the man gave the stupid green thing away. He fucking doomed us all, for no good reason he just--,” Pepper puts a hesitant arm around Peter. She tightens her grip when Peter leans his head on her shoulder. 

“I hate May a lot, for leaving me alone. She promised she wouldn’t, swore up and down she’d always take care of me, always be there for me after Ben died. 

“Then I get sad. And then I get so fucking angry at myself, because I can’t hate May. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t at all. It was mine.” 

“Peter--,” 

“Sometimes I hate you and Tony.” Peter swallows thickly. “I hate how much you love me. I hate how much you care because you just keep closing in and shutting doors, taking me away and keeping me safe and—sometimes I feel like I’m going to explode, Pepper. I feel like I’m going to explode all the time, lately.” 

Her cheeks are wet, but Pepper can’t find it in herself to move and wipe the tears away. 

“On the worst days,” Peter whispers, “On the really worst days, I hate Morgan. She doesn’t know the world before. She’ll never know, and she’ll never feel that loss. Morgan has two parents who love her more than anything in the universe and this perfect little life in the safest place in the world, and I just—I get so jealous I just want to scream.” 

Pepper sniffs, and finally wipes the tears from her face, before standing and offering Peter a hand up. 

“That’s why we’re here, sweetheart.” 

000 

An hour later, Pepper and Peter leave the park, voices croaky and hoarse, but hearts lighter. Pepper drives them back to Palm Springs and drags Peter to In-and-Out for food, once Peter offhandedly admits this is his first time west of the Mississippi. They sit inside the restaurant, shoveling down Double doubles and fries in comfortable silence when-- 

“May would want me to go to college. She’d be really sad if I didn’t try.” 

Pepper sets down her burger and wipes her mouth primly with a napkin before responding. 

“Give it a year, Peter. Try college for a year. If, after that, you decide that’s not what’s best for you,” Pepper shrugs your shoulders. “You tried. And then we figure out what really is best for you.” 

“I don’t think Tony will--,” 

“You let me worry about Tony, kiddo. And, next time you need to scream, you call me, okay?” 

A quiet little grin grows on Peter’s face, the adorably endearing one that Pepper didn’t realize how terribly she’d missed it until she saw it again. 

“You wanna get a hotel tonight, or fly back now, it’s up to you--,” 

“Let’s go home.” Peter says firmly, and a lump grows in Pepper throat. 

“Home it is then.” 

000 

2023 

“FRIDAY, give me the readings on life--,” 

“Life functions are at zero, Boss. He’s--he’s gone.” 

Pepper’s vision tunnels. She leans forward unthinkingly, presses a soft kiss to Peter’s forehead, brushes back his unruly bangs like she always did years ago, when he woke up screaming from nightmares. 

He looks horrible. His eyes are closed, bruises and smudges trailing up and down his pale face. He hasn’t shaved in too long, dark, thin scruff noticeable on his chin and cheeks and upper lip. His hand, still covered by the gauntlet, is smoking faintly. Everything around them smells like dust and burnt rubber and charred flesh. 

Someone is grabbing her hand. Someone is trying to whisper to her, trying to pull her away, to drag her from Peter, from her son, her dead son, and Pepper holds on all the tighter. She can feel it growing within her, from deep within her soul-- 

\--It’s James saying we didn’t find him I’m so sorry, Pep, and Grandpa calling her at school telling her Mom and Dad are gone far beyond where she will ever find them, it’s her, Tony telling her to breathe, telling her to push push push the baby’s almost here, you can do it, Pep, you can-- 

It’s Peter saying sometimes I hate you, you love me too much I’m going to explode I feel like I’m going to-- 

\--expanding her diaphragm and screeching against her vocal chords and-- 

Instead of emitting a scream, Pepper leaps into action. She reaches across Peter’s still warm body and throws off the hands on her shoulders. She plucks out to the green stone, Peter said it was green, he said it was time, and Dr. Strange was mean and cynical and he gave it away, Pepper, he just gave it away and doomed us all-- 

\--and Pepper stands, stone in one hand, repulsors pointed at the Avengers circling her. 

“This isn’t how it ends. This isn’t how he ends.” Pepper says, voice hollow. She clenches her armored hand around the Time Stone, and feels a rush of electricity up and down the limb. 

It hurts. 

It grounds her. 

“Pepper,” Steve Rogers steps toward her slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal. His dirty face is streaked with tears. “Pepper, you can’t undo it. He saved us. Pepper, he saved us all. Peter’s a hero--,” 

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK IF HE’S A HERO, I WANT MY SON!” Pepper finally screams. The glowing stone in her fist brightens. It must work with intention. 

Bring me back, Pepper chants in her head, take me back to before he snapped, I’ll do it, I’ll snap for him don’t let him die don’t let him die DON’T LET HIM-- 

“It should’ve been me,” Tony whispers below her. He’s idly wiping the soot off Peter’s lax face. “It was supposed to be me.” He sounds dead inside. “Strange, you told me, you said--,” 

“I told you there were two chances. You died in the other.” 

Pepper was always destined to lose. 

She stalks to the doctor, repulsor held straight to his nose. “Teach me how to use the stone. Bring him back.” 

The doctor looks up, as though fighting back tears of his own. Pepper scoffs at the thought. “I won’t. I won’t undo Peter’s sacrifice. He made a choice to save us. This was how it had to happen--,” 

“Then Peter had no choice at all, you’ve contradicted yourself, Doctor. Do you have any last words before I--,” 

“Stop.” The word sounds authoritative, but the voice is young. 

“Princess?” Dr. Strange asks, leaning around Pepper to look at the girl approaching. She looks like a young warrior queen aside from the new Nike’s on her feet ruined with dust. 

“You say you cannot bring him back, you say you do not wish to undo the boy’s sacrifice. These are two different things.” 

“What are you--,” 

“Bring Peter back to life right after he snapped.” 

“The damage to his organs from the radiation was cata--,” 

“There were two minutes and twelve seconds between Peter snapping and his death. We go back to the snap, then we freeze him. We take him to Wakanda and we freeze him, and buy ourselves some time to figure out a plan. Doctor, we are surrounded by the greatest minds, the most powerful people in the universe. We will find a way to save our savior. As long as we have the time.” 


	5. 'til death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place during chapter 3, while Steve and Peter are watching Star Wars.

“I think we should get married.” Pepper says it quietly into his chest. They’re lying in bed at the compound. It’s dark and quiet and still, save for their steady breathing. Tony is idly tracing the lines on the palm of Pepper’s hand with his finger. 

He stops tracing at her words. “Pep, half the guest list got wiped out--,” 

“Not the wedding,” Pepper interrupts, “I already canceled that. I think we should go to City Hall tomorrow, sign the license, see if we can find a judge to sign the waiver and just get the ceremony over with all in one go.” 

Pepper’s wedding dress is being handmade in Paris. She’d spent a week deciding whether lilies or lisianthus would look better in her bouquet. A chef had been scheduled to fly in from Italy to cater the dinner. 

“Why?” Tony asks, gripping his fingers around hers. 

Pepper sighs. “You’re Peter’s guardian,” she starts, and Tony’s eyebrows fly into his hair. “And I am not.” 

Oh. _Oh. _

“Twenty-five percent of the children in the world are orphans now,” Pepper continues, her voice tight. “And right now, finding homes and placements for all of them is a shitshow. But eventually things will settle, and restrictions and systems are going to be put in place to try and keep those kids safe. 

“I don’t want Peter to deal with those systems. I don’t want any of us to ever have to figure out the red-tape. If, God-forbid, if something happens to you, Peter will have me, and I don’t want there to be any question, any doubt. 

“He’s lost four parents already and he’s barely sixteen. He’s going to have us.” Pepper sits up and looks Tony hard in the eye, her own bright with tears. “He will have us, and we’ll be settled and stable. We’ll be a family.” 

Pepper met Peter Parker a grand total of five times, by Tony’s count, before the snap happened. And now she’s ready to drop everything and get married, ready to adopt a teenager she barely knows just because she knows how much Tony loves him. 

“I love you,” Tony eventually manages to whisper around the rock blocking his throat. “I love you so much sometimes I can’t breathe. I--,” 

“Is that a yes?” 

000 

They drive into the city the next day and get married. It’s raining, so nobody pays much attention to them as they enter the building. As it turns out, Tony and Pepper having joined a rising trend of people scurrying to City Hall to say ‘I do’ post-snap. A contingent of couples who feel lucky and terrified and are simply ready to have and hold their loved ones remaining. As a result, the 24-hour waiting period between signing the license and saying the vows has been lifted in the state of New York. 

Tony and Pepper wait in line two hours. She is wearing jeans and a blouse the same robin’s egg blue of the dress of his dreams. He’s wearing a hoodie over his favorite ACDC shirt. They sign the forms, repeat the lines from the judge, slip silver bands on each other’s ring fingers. They ask the couple in line behind them to stand in as witnesses. 

Tony always thought he and Pepper would have a big wedding. That was always the plan. He loves parties, she loves planning things. A big, ostentatious yet tasteful wedding seemed like an inevitability. 

But, as he sits with Pepper on a dirty bench in City Hall whose underside is surely caked in dried gum, splitting a stale Hostess cupcake from the ancient vending machine around the corner, as his wife (his _wife_) spreads some of the chalky icing on his nose with her pinky and smiles, Tony laughs until he cries and knows deep in his heart he would not trade this day, trade this memory, for anything. 

000 

_ Five years later _

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” May says as she spoons some green beans onto Morgan’s plate for her, “When did you two get married?” 

“Five years ago,” Pepper answers, “Well, almost. Our anniversary is in two weeks.” 

_ “What?” _Peter screeches, before summarily choking on his lasagna. Tony leans over and slams him on the back until he spits into his napkin and starts coughing. 

“Ew, Peter that’s gross,” Morgan proclaims with a sniff. Peter ignores her. 

“I was around when you guys got married? What, that would’ve been, like, like,” Tony watches Peter do the math in his head, “Two months after the snap? Weren’t we still at the compound? When--?” 

“It was that day we left you on the couch, you had the Star Wars marathon with Steve,” Pepper says softly. “We told you we were setting up the house.” 

Peter scrunches up his nose. May looks very sorry she even brought up the conversation. 

“Why’d you lie? Why didn’t you take me with you?” 

Pepper looks at Tony. They’d discussed taking Peter along, Tony remembers, of course he does. They decided not to, in the end, because Peter truly was the only reason they were getting married so quickly, and they didn’t want him to feel guilty. All that really changed after was the ring on each of their hands, which Peter apparently never noticed or chose not to ask about. 

Unfortunately, Peter has gotten very good at discerning his and Pepper’s silent glances over the past five years. 

“Oh my God,” Peter whispers, “Oh my God, you got married cause you were adopting me. Oh my God, I’m like, like a shotgun wedding baby. Oh my God.” Peter stands up from his chair, eyes wide. 

“Pete, c’mon, Pep and I were practically married anyway. We just signed some papers--,” 

“It was at City Hall, we wore jeans, it wasn’t that great, honey--,” 

“You are not making me feel any better about this!” Peter yelps, before hurrying out of the kitchen. 

The four of them remaining at the table watch him go in silence. 

“Don’t worry about it,” May finally says with a shrug. “You’re not even the first shotgun wedding Peter has caused.” 

“OH MY GOD!” Peter's shout echoes from up the stairs. 

000 

Exactly two weeks later, Tony wakes to Morgan pouncing on top of him and the sight of Peter holding a tray loaded with bacon, eggs, and pancakes in the doorway. 

“Happy anniversary!” They shout together. Morgan hands Pepper a bouquet of flowers, Peter serves Tony a cup of his favorite Peruvian coffee, and they sit together in the big bed and eat breakfast. 

“Oh, one more thing!” Peter pulls a card from his back pocket. 

‘Happy Anniversary!’ the card proclaims, above a cartoon head of lettuce. ‘Lettuce celebrate!’ 

Inside the card are certificates for a couples’ massage at a nearby spa. It’s not normally Tony’s cup of tea, but the thought is sweet, and Pepper looks charmed, so they get dressed, kiss the kids goodbye and head out for a relaxing day. 

000 

When he and Pepper return home that afternoon, there are way too many cars parked on their private property. 

“What the hell happened?” Pepper asks worriedly as she checks her phone. “Did you get any alerts?” 

“Nope,” Tony says as he pulls into the garage. They rush out of the car, and nearly run into Peter, waiting for them at the door. 

He’s wearing a suit. 

Morgan is standing behind him, hugging his legs, wearing her Princess Belle dress. Her hair has been neatly pulled back and curled. 

“Who’s dead?” Tony immediately asks, but Peter just laughs. 

“Go get changed in the downstairs bathroom,” he says to Tony. “Morgan, go help Mom get ready upstairs.” Morgan nods solemnly before grabbing Pepper’s hand and dragging her away. She throws a startled look over her shoulders at Tony, and he just shrugs his shoulder. 

Neither of them has any idea what the fuck is going on. 

This does not happen often. 

“C’mon, Tony, you gotta get ready,” Peter says, grabbing his arm and hauling him to the nearby bathroom. There’s a garment bag hanging on the shower curtain rod. 

“Peter, what--,” 

Peter smirks. “Get changed, and I’ll tell you.” 

000 

It’s his tux in the garment bag. 

Tony is a smart man. A genius. He knows where this is headed. 

He still can’t really believe his eyes, though, when he walks into his backyard to see his friends, his family, all seated in chairs lined up before an archway covered in ivy and fairy lights at the dock. Rhodey is at the center of the archway, wide smile on his face and a few notecards in his hands. 

“Peter...” Tony whispers. He doesn’t know what else to say. 

Peter drags him around the right side of the seats and plants him to Rhodey’s left on the dock. From the chairs, Thor smiles widely and starts waving. Scott Lang shoots him a wink. 

The Pyms, Carol, Fury, Sam, Thor, the Guardians, Neb, the Bartons, Happy, May, Bruce, T’Challa, Shuri, Okoye, even Bucky... 

“I figured if I was the one who messed up your wedding the first time around, I should be the one to plan the second,” Peter says with a shrug of his shoulders. He hasn’t stopped smiling. 

“You didn’t--,” Tony starts to contradict. But then a harpist (the kid hired a _harpist?_) starts playing Pachelbel’s Canon, and everyone stands. 

Pepper exits the backdoor wearing the fancy dress handmade in Paris, a bouquet of pink lisianthus flowers in one hand, Morgan’s hand clutched tightly in the other. There are tears in her eyes and a grin on her face. She meets Tony’s gaze and shakes her head in disbelief as she laughs. 

Tony really can’t help it when he starts to cry. Marriage and children have turned him into a horrible sap. Honestly, he feels completely attacked. 

“... to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?” 

“I do.” 

Tony still loves their first wedding, because he loves their marriage. He loves their life and their children and their home. He loves Pepper, every single thing about her, and loves that from that rainy day in City Hall forward they promised themselves to each other forever. 

But today, under the archway with the fairy lights, with his daughter dressed like a princess and his son surprising them both with the wedding they always wanted, Tony cries until he laughs until he cries and knows deep in his heart he would not trade this memory, trade this life, for anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when they told the cast it was a wedding, and then it was Tony's funeral? Well, I made the wedding lololol.
> 
> ALSO i'm zipadeea on tumblr now. hmu there if you like :)


End file.
